


The Magic of Christmas

by Reticula



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Multi, Other, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:54:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reticula/pseuds/Reticula
Summary: Christmas comes but once a year to the Mithraeum, and Augustine hopes to show Ianthe the magic of Christmas.
Relationships: Augustine the First/Naberius Tern/Santa
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: The Locked Tomb Holiday Smut Festival 2020





	The Magic of Christmas

“So what exactly is ‘Christmas’ all about”, drawled Ianthe. She had been drinking in Augustine’s rooms, as she often did these days.

“It’s a pre-Resurrection Winter festival, little sister”, replied Augustine. “Apparently John didn’t think it was very appropriate to have a feast of plenty when we were still rebuilding the world. But we still celebrate it here on the Mithraeum”.

He looked sideways over at her golden bone arm. “Actually, you’re already quite festive, chick.”.

Ianthe looked at him askance. “So, this is a festival of stripping the flesh off your bones? It sounds like Harry wasn’t being quite as original as she thought”.

Augustine laughed uproariously in a way that almost appeared natural. “No, it’s _pre-resurrection_ \- no bones, no necromancy, nothing like that. It’s more about colourful lights, shiny plex decorations and Christmas Magic”.

Ianthe perked up at this. “Magic, elder brother? My interest is piqued!”

Suddenly there was a jingling of bells in the background, coming from everywhere and yet nowhere.

“In fact, I can hear Santa coming now. Listen, Ianthe, this is the one time in the year when our Cavaliers can come out. If you’re good.”

Ianthe sat bolt upright, which was quite an achievement considering how far back she had been lounging. “I thought that our Cavs were consumed, and nothing was left?”

Augustine looked straight into her eyes. “Don’t think about it too hard, chick. It’s Christmas magic, it doesn’t have to make sense. You hardly mention your Cavalier, so I’m curious. I made a Christmas wish.”

Ianthe’s face turned red. Almost the colour of Santa’s outfit. “ _Augustine_ ”, she said, using his name in a surprising turn. “I _ate_ him! I don’t _want_ him back! Babs was an amazing swordsman, and his needlepoint was something else, but I don’t want him _out_!”

And at that moment, Santa opened the door with a “Ho, ho, ho!”. Augustine sprang to his feet and grabbed the old man by his hand. “Ahh, here you are! I’ve been a good boy, and I even sent you a letter! Do I get my Christmas wish, old man?”

“Ho ho ho!”, replied Santa. “You’ve hardly murdered anyone this year! Good boy, yes, you can have a present!”

Ianthe stared at the two of them. “Do I get a say in this??” she asked, flabbergasted enough to use two question marks.

“No”, replied the other two at the same time, and Santa clicked his fingers.

* * *

“What’s going on here?!” asked Babs. “This isn’t my body! The last thing I remember is Ianthe stabbing me in the back!”

Augustine looked over at the Cavalier in his Necromancer’s body. “Oh, there you are, good chap. I was curious what you’d be like. Can’t say I’m a great fan of your tone though. Still, there are things we can do about that”, as he headed to a cupboard and pulled out a ball gag and a length of rope. He threw the rope at Santa, who headed over to Babs.

“Shame you’ve only got a necromancer’s strength”, said Augustine, as Santa caught the rope and headed towards Babs.

The “Ho Ho Ho” that came from Santa was rather more ominous than it should have been from such a kindy-looking man. Augustine took off his top with a flourish. “You know, your necromancer’s a bit of a pain, but I’m pretty sure you’re going to be more pliable. And I’m sure you’ll heal quickly”, as he pulled out a bull-whip and a wicked-looking knife.

“Well, I suppose there’s a first time for everything” said Babs in a resigned tone, as Santa undressed him and tied him up, and Augustine turned the lights down to a low deep red.

* * *

Ianthe woke up groggily as the Mithraeum lighting transitioned to morning. She was lying on her own bed in her nightgown, and her memories of the previous night were strange enough to be written off as a dream. She purged the hangover from her system (a trick she’d worked out herself a long time ago; Coronabeth had a far higher alcohol tolerance), and got to her feet. She dressed quickly and headed out for her morning ritual of tormenting Harrowhark. She didn’t even notice the red hat with the white fur trim lying under her bed.


End file.
